Five Boo Boos
by Coldpaws
Summary: 2007 Movieverse: Five times humans were injured; five times their Autobot friends overreacted. Short fics about Mikaela, Sam, Will, Annabelle, Ratchet, Bumblebee, and Ironhide.
1. Mikaela & Ratchet

Summary: Five times humans were injured; five times their Autobot friends overreacted. Short fics about Mikaela, Sam, Will, Annabelle, Ratchet, Bumblebee, and Ironhide.

* * *

**Five Boo-Boos**

**I**

"Mikaela! What has happened to your auditory receptors?"

"Huh?" Mikaela scrunched up her facial muscles and raised one optic ridge, but otherwise made no move to answer his query. _Oh, Primus, she's really gone and fragged them_. Ratchet categorized communication with the human as a lost cause, and quickly decided for a more direct approach to discovering the severity of her ailment: examination. He delicately used a thumb and forefinger of his left hand to stabilize her cranium, and was reaching with his right to brush aside her fibrous head covering…

"What the fuck are you doing?!" Mikaela's old denim pack gave a resounding clang as it hit the cement floor Ratchet's med-bay. The echoes bouncing around the huge Quonset hut, she reached up to grab at Ratchet's fingers, futilely trying to remove them from her head. Ratchet ignored her, tipping her cranium to the side for the better visual.

"Ow, ok, that's really uncomfortable. What are you so interested in?" The female gave up trying to remove his fingers, and instead began investigating the left side of her face with her hands. _Is she truly unaware of the damage she has sustained? I did not believe humans could offline pain receptors…_

"Mikaela," Ratchet began, and her optics snapped up to meet his own, "Ah, so you are not as damaged as I initially believed. I'll forget, for now, that you did not answer my initial question. You are profusely leaking from what appear to be identical punctures on your auditory receptors. How did you go and get an injury like this, girl?" Mikaela's hand now found the rusty plasma adorning her auditory receptor. She brought the appendage in front her optics, smearing the liquid between her fingers and once again scrunching her facial muscles, even more severely now than earlier.

"First, let me go. Second, don't ever grab me like that again without asking first." Ratchet released her. 

"Don't order me around _my_ med-bay, youngling. You're injured, you're in my med-bay, you're in my care, you follow my rules. Answer the fraggin' question, or I'll just strap you to my table and perform a full scan to ensure you've not also failed to mention injuries elsewhere." Ratchet had learned that their culture made the humans shy away from full frame scans whenever possible. The girl shifted her weight to one leg, placed her hands on her pelvic joints, and, suffering a brief optic spasm, released air from her lungs in a recognizable sigh.

"Nothing is wrong with my ears, Ratchet. I got them pierced again last night, and probably tugged on the stud this morning when I got dressed. It's just bleeding a bit. I'm fine." Mikaela tilted her chin down, pointedly staring up at him. "Besides, didn't you notice that I, oh, I don't know, had already been walking around with hoops in my ears? How did you figure I wore those things, huh?"

Ratchet contemplated this information for a moment. He did recall noting the pieces of metal and plastic dangling from her auditory receptors at their initial meeting, and now that he thought, the several times since that those decorations had changed. "I was not aware that the holes for those attachments were artificial. And humans…pierce themselves regularly? For what purpose?"

"Decoration? I dunno. I enjoy wearing earrings, matching them to my clothes, collecting old vintage pairs…My grandma first made me get my ears pierced to make me more "feminine," and, well," She shrugged. _How does puncturing holes in a person made them more female? Humans…_

"You do not need any medical attention? Truly?"

"I'm fine. Really." Mikaela picked up her discarded bag from the floor, unzipping it to reveal a multitude of human sized tools, "Let's get to work." 

* * *


	2. Sam & Bumblebee

I just want to thank **teh blumchenkinder, Dragonflamecrystal, Prime Revolver, LoveHopes, Jason M. Lee, Cafcow, The L Factor, blood shifter, Blue Viper, Fire From Above, Elita One, **and **shadowblade-tara** for all their kind reviews!

* * *

**II**

"_You're late! You're late! You're late you're late you're late! And you're uuuuugly, and your momma dressed you funny huh!"_ Bumblebee's speakers crowed for the whole neighborhood. As usual, Sam had failed to awake with his bedside alarm or the brilliant Nevada sunshine pouring over his bed. Bumblebee filled in.

"I know I know!" Sam's voice came from his bedroom window. There were some sounds of shuffling, rustling, and the pounds Bumblebee recognized as Sam pulling on a pair of jeans and shoving on his shoes. More thumping as Sam ran down the stairs, cutting off abruptly at the usual glare from his mother, and a moment later Sam appeared at the screen door.

"I'll be there in just a sec, lemme just grab something to eat, yah?"

"_No, no. No, no-no-no._ _I said no, no, you're not the one for me!_" But Sam had already disappeared back into the house, presumably to the kitchen. Frag. Bee _hated_ food crumbs between his seats. Bumblebee could hear a conversation between Sam and Judy Witwicky. Judy did most of talking, as Sam had stuffed some kind of food into his mouth. Now once again he saw Sam turn into the hallway.

"Yeah, goodbye! Be at the lookout with Mikaela!" Sam yelled as he jogged towards the door.

"Have you got protection?" Judy shouted from the kitchen. Sam turned at just the wrong moment and ended up face down and spread-eagled across his father's prized, pedicured lawn. He quickly sat up, grabbing his right foot with both hands and working his mouth open and closed like a fish.

"Fuckfuckfuck…shi-it," Sam gasped.

"Sam?" Judy's voice came out of the house.

"Fine, Mom. And, I, uh, don't need protection, but, thanks for checking." He grit out a little sarcastically. He limped over to Bumblebee, climbed in the drivers seat, closed the door, and released a tightly held breath.

"Damn." When Bumblebee made no move to the meeting place, Sam said, "Uh, Bee? What are we sitting around for? We're already late."

"Are you injured, Sam?" Bee's scratchy voice came out of the radio.

"Nah, I'm fine. I just stubbed my toe on the doorframe. Happens all the time. Doesn't do any real damage, usually anyways. It just hurts. A lot." Sam guessed Bee was probably remembering the Aurora Borealis of bruising he'd had after Mission City. He pat the dash board reassuringly.

"Seriously, not a big deal. You may have noticed I've got the coordination of a drunk monkey, so I'm pretty used to running into windows, hidden poles…walls…" Sam trailed off as he realized he'd just been digging himself in deeper.

"_See how they run… He's an operator, he's a real player!"_ Bee teased as he pulled out of the driveway and tore off down the road. Sam smacked the radio dials and rolled down the window, play scowling.

"Yeah, real funny, real funny."

"_Understand, it's a curse, you've got trouble in your blood. Write a song, second verse, underneath it there's love!" _

* * *

Music: "_You're late..._" _ -_ A camp song, "_No, no..._" _ - _ "Black Horse and the Cherry Tree" by KT Tunstall, "_See how they run_" - "Lady Madonna" by The Beatles, "_He's an operator, he's a real player!" - _"Too Cool for School" by Fountains of Wayne, and "_Understand, it's a curse..." - _"Trouble" by Voxtrot. 


	3. Annabelle & Ironhide

I want to thank **cmdrtekk, blood shifter, Blue Viper, Jason M. Lee, Rindesayu, Dragonflamecrystal, LoveHopes, Blackwing.Rose, **and **come-by-chance **for reviewing! Getting all your comments really keeps an author going.

* * *

**III**

Ironhide scanned the horizon as per his sentinel programming before returning to observe his two humans closely. Upon returning from duty, Captain William Lennox had taken it upon himself to familiarize himself with every aspect of his tiny female offspring, Annabelle Lennox. This required an exorbitant amount of 'bonding time': time spent without the sparkling's female creator. Initially, Will's bonded female Sarah and Annabelle had both protested, but in time they became used to the new routine. In fact, today Sarah had almost kicked Will out of the house.

So, here they were, two ex-soldiers and one tiny sparkling, 'enjoying the good weather,' just as Sarah Lennox had prescribed. Well, Annabelle was certainly enjoying herself. Ironhide couldn't be sure of the emotion behind Will's half-lidded optics, though his relaxed posture, laying belly down in the grass, chin propped up in one hand, certainly suggested contentment.

"You really need to learn how to relax," Will mumbled. Annabelle giggled at him and then turned back to examining the grass next to his elbow.

"I know how to relax. It involves my cannons and a shooting range," Ironhide rumbled back at him grumpily. Couldn't the human see how exposed this area was? It made him uncomfortable at the least and trigger ready at the worst.

"Ironhide: sit down. You'll pick up anything on scans before seeing it anyways, so just enjoy the sun. Warn me if Bella looks like she's gonna wander off." At this, the army captain rolled onto his back and flopped his arm over his optics, apparently planning to enter a mild recharge. Ironhide huffed, but trained his sight onto the littlest organic in his care.

Annabelle continued to pull at the browning grass around her creator for some time, before becoming distracted by a toy. Ironhide watched as she picked up the chain of rattles, animal shapes, and letters.

"Why, little one, do you insist on ingesting everything? That is not fuel," he said as gently as he could manage when Annabelle tried to stuff a wooden tiger into her mouth. Her large optics wandered up to his face plate, but she continued to slobber on her toy. She dropped it and squealed when he sat down, and he froze and worried she might start her incessant squalling. She didn't get upset, however, and when he made no more interesting noises or movements, she turned back to her playthings.

Ironhide continued to watch her, lazily noting a speck land on the pink blanket. Of course, this planet was literally crawling with life, and any time he became upset at some little critter or another approaching Annabelle Will laughed at his reaction. _It's probably yet another variety of useless, harmless bug,_ Ironhide thought. _Why exactly does Earth have so many types of native life forms again?__Ratchet explained this…_

"Aaaah!" Annabelle's shriek jerked Ironhide from his musings. He immediately readied his plasma cannons, and rose to his feet so quickly the ground shook. _Primus! I __**knew**__ I shouldn't let my guard down!_ He did a 360 degree sweep of the area before zeroing in on the wailing Annabelle.

Will had also jolted awake, and was now trying to calm his sparkling. "Shhh, shhh, it's alright," he was saying, rubbing her back and rocking her back and forth, "You're ok."

"What happened?" Ironhide asked bruskly, getting down on all fours, "does she need medical attention?"

"No, she's fine." Will gently held her right hand and extended her arm. "She got stung by a wasp. No, no, no, I shooed it away," he said as Ironhide trained his cannons on the little pink blanket.

"I saw it. I will terminate it." Nothing could get away with hurting _his_ sparkling.

"Ironhide, there are hundreds of wasps. Bella's fine, see?" By now, the wails had quieted down to hiccups, and her tear streaked face was returning to its natural color. "That's daddy's tough girl," he cooed, "The sting'll swell up a bit and be uncomfortable for a few days, but she was probably more surprised than hurt."

Ironhide grunted, and discontentedly powered down his weaponry and battle programming. Will plopped Annabelle back down onto the blanket, tickling her mercilessly, turning tears to giggles once more.

"And Ironhide?" Will said over the sound of his cooling fans kicking in, "You don't need a cannon…literally, in your case…to kill a fly. Sarah'll have both our heads if there's a repeat of the _raccoon incident_."

* * *

Wasp stings really don't hurt that bad when you get them. And, bonus, you don't have to remove a stinger like from a bee. However, I don't suggest stepping on or whacking at a nest any time soon; one sting is harmless, a few dozen stings... 


	4. Sam & Ratchet

Wow! 18 reviews for one chapter! Some answers to questions: I don't know exactly what the "raccoon incident" was; I've seen various references to it in a number of fics. **Ridel** noted it was in Tinman by **Fire Redhead**, which it was, but I know I've seen it elsewhere on the site as well. I've stepped on a bee and been stung by wasps twice: once on each hand. In the space of a week. Not pleasant, but the second time I got stung I was more frustrated at the bad luck and inconvenience of swollen fingers than upset at the pain.

I would also like to thank **FanfictionWriter83729, blood shifter, lil-ninja09, Elita One, Fk306 animelover, Prime Revolver, Jason M. Lee, cmdrtekk, teh blumchenkinder, Truth of Barricade, Julielulie, Ray of Starlight, Ted, lilyoftheval5, Misao-CG, shadowblade-tara, **and **LoveHopes** for your kind comments. I'm sorry I don't have time to answer reviews more personally right now, but even if all you say is "Again, I like this" (**teh**, I'm looking at you), it does mean a lot to me.

* * *

**IV**

Sam let out a sigh of relief as he closed the door behind him. Blessed…muffled shouting, clanging, and grinding. While the Autobots disliked unnecessary noise, they had yet to appreciate how uncomfortable their 'inside volume' was for their human friends. Or at least, Ratchet had yet to appreciate it; Sam suspected he'd always been this way though, and was prepared to resign himself to early hearing loss in order to hang out with his friends.

Still, a little break was nice, and Sam fully enjoyed the ringing in his ears while he prepared his hot dog and pickle sandwich. He warily eyed the plastic plates in the cupboard, but decided that hands would work fine for now. Cleaning up the crumbs as best he could (Mikaela and he never needed to deal with roaches again; or _Ironhide_ and cockroaches), he grabbed his sandwich in his left hand and made his way back out of the human sized habitations towards the main hanger.

"Head up and still!" Ratchet's irate order greeted him as he opened the door into the vast space of the Quonset hut. Much of the building was currently occupied with two Autobots and a sea of large, small, and strange spare parts. Bumblebee was in for a checkup.

"Hey Bee, Ratchet," Sam said, before taking a big bite of his sandwich. Ratchet grunted at him and grabbed Bumblebee's head when he tried to look down, so Bumblebee had to settle for a little wave. Sam reached behind himself distractedly, "He probably didn't tell you, but-Aah! Fuck!"

This time, Ratchet actually did turn to look at him. At the expression on his face, Bumblebee bounded over, "Sam! Are you all right?"

"No talking!" Ratchet appeared to the right of the little yellow bot, shoving him to the side. "Be quiet! If you use that voice capacitor again, I'll kick you out. Sam, are you injured?"

"Oh, god…just a bit." He tried to turn to indicate where the index, middle, and ring fingers of his right hand were jammed between the door and its frame. Unfortunately, the awkward position of his thumb facing towards the floor didn't allow him much maneuverability.

"I see. Don't move, I need to determine the best solution to this dilemma." Sam winced and visibly hunched over, thinking on what he was about to do.

"There's only ever one solution, Ratch," he said, "God, this is going to suck."

"What?" But before Ratchet or Bumblebee could do or say anything more, Sam had thrown his weight backwards at the door. There was a thump as the cheap plywood door hit the wall on the other side, barely audible under Sam's resounding "Shi—it!" Sam clutched his right forearm with his left hand, gnashing his teeth.

"What in the Pit caused you to do that, you insufferably foolish boy!" Sam was afraid Ratchet might thwack him across the head as his habit for Bee when he didn't behave, but the giant metal hand merely extended his right arm.

"Extend your phalanges further...hmm."

"Really, its fine. I only lost a bit of skin across the knuckles…and my sandwich." Sam looked forlornly at hot dog pieces strewn around the ground.

"Are you sure that you do not need further medical attention? I do not see any fractures in the bone, but there could be damage to your circulatory or nervous systems I would not know to detect." Ratchet had yet to release his arm, and now Bee had gone for the left for a comparison.

"Ok, today is not human tug-of-war day. I'm fine you guys! No broken bones equals no trip to the hospital, seriously, listen to the expert…of the three of us." Sam thought on this a moment, then sighed at the mother hen behavior of the two bots. He sucked on the middle knuckle of his poor middle finger, trying to shoo the two off with his now free left hand. They didn't budge.

He took his hand out of his mouth, looked at it, blew on it, shook it out, but ended up sticking the knuckle back between his lips. "What are you doing?" Ratchet had watched the whole process critically, wondering at its function.

"Oh, it uh, makes it feel better to suck or blow on it…ok, that sounded really bad."

"And what about--" Sam waved him away and used his hand as an excuse not to answer any more questions, dodging inside the doorway and rolling his eyes. Then his eyes widened and he scowled: _Damn it, now I have to make another sandwich! _

* * *

Phalanges are fingers. Oh, Sam. He's the clumsy one. That's ok, I've done this to myself so many times I've lost count._  
_


	5. Mikaela & Ironhide

On the sandwich: This came about one day when I was little when we had no hot dog buns and no relish. They're not half bad.

This is the last one, guys! And it's extra long, too. Thank you so much for all the great reviews!

* * *

**V**

The massive black GMC truck gently cruised to a stop in front of the cavernous Quonset hut. It sunk onto its shocks, letting out a sigh-like hiss, the dust and sand settling down around its tires. A moment later, it unfolded, reared back, and transformed into the massive, cannon-toting form of the Autobot weapons specialist Ironhide. He made no move to enter the dark, cool interior.

"Don't think stalling is going to get you out of a maintenance check. Get in here." Ironhide let a huff of air from his vents, but complied with the request. Even after only a few months, the interior of the med bay had a chaotic feel to it, spare parts along both walls, tools scattered across the ground, abandoned projects piled to one side and current projects piled to the other. Ironhide knew the disorganization must be grinding Ratchets gears, but apparently it was the way most human medics worked, so that's what you get for takin' one of 'em on as an apprentice.

"Mikaela will be performing your check today, so to start you'll need to be in vehicle mode. I'll be working inventory." The CMO swept off to the far end of the compound to his newly built cabinetry and storage area.

The girl gave him a little wave, wiggling her fingers. While he had nothing against her personally, Ironhide would have preferred the familiar Ratchet over any young recruit. _Ratchet'll never let me here the end of it if I get my wires crossed…_Ironhide stared at her for a moment before crouching down on all four wheels and transforming back into a Topkick.

"Could you pop your hood?" The latch clicked, Mikaela propped up the cover and got to work.

"Where are Bumblebee and Sam Witwicky?" He asked after some time of silence.

"Hm? Bee n Sam? They went out for a drive, you know, boy time. Or, well, I was planning on going, but then Ratchet asked me to do this." Mikaela grunted, jerking a loose nut tight. "I tried to say no, thought I didn't have enough experience even after helping patch up Bee and Jazz, but he just kept going on about how I'd never learn to work for real on my own if I didn't, etc. etc. Actually, he really roped me into it…" She stopped working now, placing one hand on the top of his grill while the other picked at her shirt. She gave a nervous little laugh before continuing,

"He said the only_real_ reason I didn't want to work on you was because I was afraid of your cannons, and we got in a big spat just before you arrived, but I couldn't say no at that point…" A shrug, followed by more silence.

"Everything looks good up here, but let me check below before you stand up." Ironhide shut his hood and revved his engine while she walked off for a few moments. _Feels good…No wonder the younglin's always in such a good mood after a tune-up._

Mikaela came back with a wooden trolley and slid under Ironhide's aft. He tried not to twitch at the various touches, tweaks, and tugs as she moved forward along his undercarriage. Finally, she levered herself out from under him, gliding out to rest in front of him.

"Ok, done with all that. Ratchet should probably be here to watch while I check your cannons and circuitry, but you can stretch out if you like." As he rolled his arms in their shoulder sockets and Mikaela kicked the trolley off to one side and turned to call Ratchet over, he noticed something out of place. _I've seen that before…_His eyes widened as he recalled the cleanup after Mission City, the screams, the _blood_.

"Mikeala, don't move!" '_Ratchet, get down here, quick!'_ he commed the Autobot medic. Ironhide tried to recall what the human medics standard procedure had been whenever he'd unearthed a survivor from the rubble of Mission City, and settled for laying Mikaela down on her stomach as gently as he could…then holding her there as she tried to get up.

"What? Are all you robots little kids or what, can't keep your fucking giant hands to yourselves! Let me go! What is with you?" And on.

Ratchet, by now jaded against these seemingly daily injuries to their human allies, didn't even turn around. _'Is she in pain?'_ he asked Ironhide over internal communications.

"Are you in pain?"

She had ceased struggling at this point and settled for sending icy glares his way. "No."

'_No.'_

'_Then in my expert opinion she's probably fine. Get her to explain it to you, I'm busy.'_ At this Ironhide reluctantly removed his fingers from her shoulders and thighs, allowing her to pick herself up from off the floor.

"You're leaking," he grumbled, pointing at her aft. She twisted around as much as her central support column would allow, pulling her jeans away from her legs to have a look.

"Wow, I can't believe I didn't notice that. And I liked these jeans too…" She whipped her head around to look at Ratchet, her mouth forming an 'O', "No wonder I got so pissy at him this morning…" Ironhide realized she seemed to have no intention of explaining this to him on her own, and so tried to bring her back on topic.

"The humans in Mission City who had such leaks needed to be taken to repair facilities. If you're not damaged, why are you leaking plasma?" She gaped up at him, her mouth opening and closing a few times, her faceplate flushing bright red. _And this is normal behavior? Maybe I __**should**__ have Ratchet scan her…_

"I cannot believe I'm about to give a giant, sentient, 'autonomous robotic organism' the talk." Mikeala shook her head back and forth. Ironhide waited as patiently as he could manage. "Well, you might as well sit down for this," she said, sighing in resignation and plopping herself onto the concrete floor. Ironhide hissed internally at the girl's crossed legs as he himself kneeled down in front of her.

"Basically, well, I'm on my period, and that means…"

**000**

"Sarah did **that** when Annabelle Lennox was created?"

"Yup." Mikaela watched in amusement as a shudder passed through Ironhide's frame._That femme's got bolts of titanium._ Mikaela brought Ironhide out of his musings when she slapped her hands against the floor, then stood up.

"Well, if the class has no more questions, I'm going to change clothes." She looked at him expectantly.

"Will your emotional processors glitch for the rest of the week? Is there no possibility of neutralizing the hormones fritzing your system? One Ratchet is bad enough," Ironhide grumbled.

"No, I can't do anything about it. Ah ah ah!" She held up a hand as he prepared another comment. "No uterus, no opinion!" With that, she left Ironhide in the middle of the hanger, alone.

* * *

Bonus scene:

"Hey Ironhide, Ratchet!" Sam cheerfully greeted as he climbed out of Bumblebee. The little yellow mech transformed, and they made their way to where the other two Autobots had been discussing some aspect of Ironhide's insides.

"Where's Mikaela? Did she finish checking you out?" He looked at Ironhide, then Ratchet. "'Cause she said that after that she'd be up for some takeout. I mean, if there was something else you needed her for, Ratchet, that's cool, we can get takeout any day, I guess, but it's getting late and I figured she'd be hungry, maybe, yes/no?" All through his babble Sam scanned the room, his eyes landing on the door to the human facilities.

"I wouldn't bother her yet, boy. The cyclical hormone changes in her body are causing her emotional instability, and the loss of a well-liked pair of jeans has put her in a mood from the Pit." Ironhide casually warned Sam.

Sam gaped up at him, and Ironhide noticed that his faceplate reddened and warmed in the same manner as Mikaela's had earlier in the day.

"Hey guys!" Mikaela chose just that moment to enter the main hanger, but nearly stopped in her tracks at the expression on Sam's face. She gave Ironhide a wary glance, before suffering some kind of malfunction, rolling her optics up and back while shaking her head and sighing. She grabbed Sam's arm on her way by the bigger bots, dragging him towards Bumblebee.

"You said something about takeout? I tell you, I am **craving** some good massaman curry…"

* * *

Massaman curry: a mild curry from Thailand.

For those who don't believe it's possible to not notice you're bleeding out your nethers, let's say she was concentrating very hard on her work. It could happen.

Also, I have to say that I shamelessly homaged (coughstolecough) the line "No uterus, no opinion" from chapter 5 of **Vaeru's** fantastic fic On the Care and Feeding of Humans. It's a great line from a great fic. Go read that and her main story, Transformers: Juxtaposition.

When Ironhide says "_That femme's got bolts of titanium._" He's talking about Sarah. I meant this in a sense of "That girl's got balls of steel", and originally it said "_That femme's got bolts of Primus knows what" _when I couldn't think of a good name for a real or fictional metal that would be tough from a Transformer's point of view. LOTR Lover 247 suggested that Ironhide viewed titanium as such a metal. If you know of any other such elements in cannon or fannon, I would love to know.


End file.
